


Sunday Morning Sin

by scorpionmother



Category: Penny Dreadful (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:37:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorpionmother/pseuds/scorpionmother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan wakes Vanessa from sleep on a Sunday morning.  Can one really sin on a Sunday?  I put it to you and also with Ethan Chandler in your bed would you even care?  A little piece of sweet smut for those of us who long for these two beautiful characters to be together even if it is only us who ever write it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning Sin

Her skin in the dawn that begins to seep through the gauzy curtains of their room changes in the brightening light from cool ivory to a warmer alabaster. The long line of her supple back is perfection personified and the brand that marks her flesh, in its ugliness only makes what surrounds it more beautiful. On her skin he can see other faint marks from his mouth and fingers, a story of their lovemaking that stretched long into the darkness of previous night. He knows that he used her hard but she met his every want and need with a passion of her own that left him undone as she gave of herself completely and he swears that in the moment of their release, they touched heaven.  
Just looking at her skin, remembering how in the half-light of the fire that has now burnt down to ashes, she’d moved under him, above him in such abandon his body hardens in response.  
His fingers move carefully closing the gap between their bodies, fingertips brushing with delicate touch down the curving ridge of her spine. He watches and feels as her skin responds to him, the faintest rippling of muscles under that silken covering.  
“Ethan, stop it, it’s Sunday.” There is no sign of sleep in her voice, the deep timbre of its tone arousing him further as it always does, and the amused chuckle that he hears makes a lie of what passes her lips.  
“Sin on a Sunday darlin’ is the easiest to get forgiven. After I’ve finished with you I promise we’ll go straight to church to be absolved.” He moves his large body to lay, his front against her back melding her small frame into his. His fingers move over the satin of her hip brushing her belly to the juncture of her thighs, finding the delicate bundle of nerves. Her hears the intake of breath ripping into her lungs as the pad of his middle finger begins to circle round and round over her quivering flesh. He feels heat and slickness starting to build as his rubbing becomes firmer and she grinds her behind into him her breath now coming in sharp pants punctuated by the soft moaning of his name. He adores how her body responds to his touch and is awed by how she demonstrates again and again how she needs him physically in complete symbiosis of his own need for her.  
Her hips begin to buck against him building a delicious friction against his heavy erection and her hand finds his, pressing it harder, deeper against what he knows has become in those moments, the centre of her existence.  
“Let go Van, come for me.” He growls the command into her ear and bites down into the soft flesh of her neck marking her again as his and she stiffens and against his hand he feels her body shatter as wave after wave of pleasure wash through her. He does not stop his ministrations though playing her until she lies still and sated her breathing ragged in the peace after the storm.  
But her stillness does not last for long her passion for him seems insatiable as his is for her. He feels her hand suddenly between their bodies gripping his erection with possession. It is now his turn to gasp as she slides her hand firmly up and down in the long, slow strokes that she knows provide for him the greatest pleasure. However the friction of her hand is not enough he wants to be sheathed in her heat and silken softness, to lose himself and then find himself again deep inside her exquisite body. She seems to know this instinctively and she curves her back to position herself so the tip of his engorged shaft caress her folds. It takes every ounce of his self-control not just to plunge straight into her. He knows that she would accept and welcome him and match his passion but after the excesses of the previous night he wants to worship her, focus on her pleasure. First he works a finger into her tightness feeling and hearing her hum of pleasure. Another follows it stroking the smooth satin of her sheath arrowing upwards to find the spot that with one single touch floods her with the slickness that will make his penetration easier for her and more pleasurable for both of them. Only then does he push his flesh into hers. He smiles as he feels her relaxing against his invasion of her body but also pushing her knees together to tighten the sensation. He brushes as line of kisses from her ear to her shoulder with his tongue laving the mark he left on her neck earlier which will necessitate the choice of a high necked blouse for proprieties sake. He will enjoy catching her eye later that afternoon when they are in company, giving her a knowing look, seeing her widening smile, the glow in her eyes and the faint blush that will paint her cheeks. But also knowing the below the civility of her clothing that she would be ready for him to take her there and then.  
Slowly he starts to build the rhythm and she meets his every thrust rocking her hips to deepen the penetration. He is totally lost in her the feel of her body, scent of her skin, the sounds she makes as he loves her fiercely and completely, entangled in the tresses of her midnight hair. His love for her goes beyond this world and he knows that she is the only truth, the greatest joy in his life and that without her light he would descend into an eternity of darkness and pain.  
He can feel her internal muscles clamping down on him, her cries of pleasure becoming more frenzied, her movements erratic and only when her feels her own completion tear through her body, does he allow himself to slam core deep into her, to let himself truly go. To ascend to where in the coalition of pure pain and pleasure there is only them, where the union of man and woman is truly holy.  
Slowly he descend to reality and finds himself staring into the eternal blue of her eyes his heart clenching as he sees reflected back in them the all-encompassing love he feels for her. Her hand raises to his face to brush back the hair that hangs there her fingers remaining to run over his lips. He catches them quickly nipping the tips with his teeth that make her laugh that throaty chuckle that always sounds wickedly seductive. He leans forward placing a tender kiss onto her beautiful mouth then pulls her firmly into his body, wrapping her in his arms and in his love, tucking her head under his chin. He can feel her body sated and at peace as his is, their breathing falling into a rhythm with each other. Her mouth finds the sensitive gap between his collar bone and she moves her lips against his skin.  
“Take me to church Mr. Chandler I’m going to need much absolution.”


End file.
